


i guess it's all working out, now

by yndere



Category: LOONA (Korea Band)
Genre: F/F, everyone else is minor - Freeform, gowon focused, kind of platonic, yyxy is mentioned the most
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-08 13:51:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,052
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14695515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yndere/pseuds/yndere
Summary: anyone with eyes could see that park chaewon was destined for greatness. fate was blind.





	i guess it's all working out, now

anyone with eyes could see that park chaewon was destined for greatness.

thus, when the result of a car crash ceased her father’s sight and her mother altogether, the universe seemed to lose its grip on the odds set out for a certain seventeen year old.

-

(she thinks it’s all a big joke. how one day all your dreams fit into the folds of your palms and the very next, the term imagination slips from the dictionary you call life.)

-

the pharmacist greets her at the counter, his mouth tugging to the side in an attempt to stifle the saddened gaze fixated on her. “i really shouldn’t be giving you these… are you sure there’s nobody at home?” 

she looks up, sharply, to answer his question and he shakes his head, letting his shoulders fall slack in defeat. he doesn’t say anything else, just scans the bottles of prescription medicine he’d already set out for her and slips the bill between plastic. she leaves the store with two receipts, a bag of drugs, and a pina colada lollipop pressed against her tongue.

-

(she takes out three pills and sets them on a napkin, accompanies the triplets with a glass of water and a plate of food that’d welcomed her upon arrival. when she wakes up the next morning, all three are empty. her stomach growls. she should’ve bought another sucker.)

-

she’s scrubbing at the tabletops when a hand rests upon the back of hers. her fingers uncurl around the cloth and it’s only then does she realize she’d been wiping a singular spot the entire time. 

the caretaker places chaewon’s fingers between clasped palms, takes the bloodied towel away from the girl. desperation clings to her eyes as she watches it leave, watches the wood darken with another hue. “wash and wrap.” are the words that ripple from the woman’s mouth. 

she decides its best that the lady be in charge of cleaning, rubs at the raw skin on her pads at night.

-

(the caretaker never speaks again.)

-

her father intercepts her on her way out. 

she’s slightly surprised at his accuracy, unsure if she was too obvious with her moves or whether it was a factor of his blindness. 

she concludes it as the latter. he’d always told her to keep her self-esteem up, after all.

“are you going out?” his tone is hushed and gentle. a twinge of pain treads through the currents of her veins and she swallows hard.

she almost nods―catches herself at the last second―and breathes out a simple “yes,” which he grunts in response. 

“don’t stay out too late. you have school tomorrow.” 

-

(her father signs the school district forms the next month and she is free; she is free.)

-

dropping out wasn’t anything she regretted. the only pleasure she’d gotten from her classes were her friends and after, every one of them felt like a foreign concept to her once fluent ears. 

she tries not to miss them, though. her mailbox is brimmed with letters of apologies and hopeless wishes, designated for all that managed to drown under the waves chaewon had brought forth. 

-

(she never lifts the red flag.)

-

chaewon knows she’s pretty. blonde locks and petite body, soft voice and polite manner. she’d had a couple of boyfriends, maybe one or two girlfriends, but there was a place for the past and she knew more than everyone that the present wasn’t a home for anyone. 

doesn’t mean she doesn’t think about before, though. doesn’t mean she doesn’t lie in bed, fingers zipped over her chest, blanket slung over the bed, thinking about before. she doesn’t sleep those nights. only looks at her reflection in the mirror, watches the familiar look of her father set into her features as well. 

she’s pretty. that’s enough for now. but perhaps being lost and pretty isn’t exactly a pair to connect with. 

she slips under her covers, pulls the blanket way up―it doesn’t take much effort on her part―and listens to the tap, tap, tap of her walls. she makes a note to call a repairman in the morning.

doesn’t know if she’ll remember to.

-

(that night, she daydreams of love and roses; of rain and spring blooms; of life and death. she wakes up in a cold sweat.)

-

this time, when she enters the store, another set of eyes are awaiting her. she blinks in surprise, almost drops her bag of medications and glances around. the other man―chan, was it?―was nowhere in sight.

chaewon knows her hands are shaking even before she drops the plastic cart, lets the metal slip through her fingers as easily as life let her slip through theirs. the eyes are kind; she doesn’t like kind. kind leads to curiosity, which leads to pity. chan was kind. she didn’t like chan. she wasn’t going to like this. 

her adam’s apple bobs in her throat and she swears inwardly that she’ll never wish to be anything but a girl―for the prominent show of emotion does not mix well with her. 

she clutches the basket with every sense of pride she can muster, walks up to the pair of orbs and sets it down in front of them. they eye her, curiously, and she expects the probing question and possible denial. 

except, it never happens. she’s scanned through without a second glance and relief undulates throughout her. she glances back at the counter, locks gazes with the kind eyes and decides that she didn’t not like chan, after all. 

-

(it’s only on her way back does she realize she forgot to buy her lollipop. she stuffs the dollar back into her bank, eats her dinner like she should.)

-

she learns that chan has left for college, weeks after. she always figured he was young, didn’t realize exactly how young he was. another intern was to replace him―haseul was her name―and her eyes were kind, so kind. 

chaewon’s glad of her height, suddenly. she doesn’t have to look at them, at the eyes, face-to-face. she’s not impulsive. she knows she won’t be able to swim. 

-

she stumbles upon jiwoo days after. a knot in her stomach grips tighter and she tries her best to stay calm, curls her fingers against her side. 

the other girl smiles, but only hints of sadness reach her eyes. “chaewon…” she starts, becoming interested in the scuffed high tops she always wore―chaewon had always complained about them, jokingly, told her she’d buy her a new pair if it took every last bit of her. 

“jiwoo.” is her stout reply, less of an acknowledgement than a question. 

“how are you? it’s been awhile. sooyoung and i missed you. she graduated this year, a month ago, i think. ‘ve still got a year to go.” she stands up straight, towers over chaewon despite the minute difference between the two. 

“oh. i’m happy for you two.” she states, matter-of-factly, and can see the effects of her dryness in jiwoo’s wince. “hope you’ll continue being alright.”

she turns, but a plea calls her back. “i know it’s been long, but how about an ice cream cone?”

a part of chaewon tells her not to accept, tells her that the past is the past.

-

(she accepts.)

-

ever since sooyoung’s thirteenth birthday, when jiwoo was two years her junior, and chaewon just barely making the double-digit mark, ice cream cone was always their code word. 

on that day, sooyoung had been upset about something chaewon can’t remember to this moment, but jiwoo had tugged both of their wrists―grin splitting through cheekbones―to the local mall, scuffed sneakers and all.

she ordered a singular vanilla ice cream cone, left a tip, then proceeded to lead the trio up three escalators and down one elevator because she’d gotten distracted and forgot where they were heading. 

at this point, sooyoung had cracked a small smile, looking fondly at the younger girl dragging them on a chase, and even chaewon was laughing, shoulders shaking as the girls’ steps ricocheted off the floor. 

finally, they’d stopped outside a pet store―one of the incredibly sad ones that makes chaewon cry if she thinks about the way the dogs look, all cooped up, tired and ragged―and jiwoo’s confidence started to fade into affection.

“can we take this one out?” she asked the boy at the table, who’d been preoccupied with his phone. he looked up, eyebrows creased in a way that read no, but one look at the little girl’s smile made him change his mind. he stood, more effort than needed, and unlocked the cage jiwoo had pointed out to them.

the girls spent the day feeding ice cream to the dogs, who’d licked at their faces more than the treat meant for them.

sooyoung had the best birthday ever.

-

(chaewon sends out the letters marked sooyoung.)

-

when they arrive at the mall, jiwoo reads aloud the closed sign parallel to them. a look of disappointment flashes across her face and she pivots to apologize, but chaewon interrupts her.

“it’s not your fault.” she lifts a shoulder to shrug, sunlight basking along their necks. “let’s just get ice cream.” 

jiwoo grins―the familiar sight almost clocking out the younger if not for the offer she made―and loops her arm around the other’s. “let’s.”

jiwoo orders a strawberry waffle cone. 

chaewon gets one scoop of pina colada in a cup, lets jiwoo choose her toppings. she has to get a bigger cup.

-

when sooyoung comes home from her college visit, jiwoo invites her and chaewon to her cloud-watching club. puts a hand on her hip when she sees the looks being exchanged. “what―? clouds are beautiful, stop that!” 

they go, anyways; tease her along the way, pointing out shapes that don’t exist in the atmosphere above them. she takes it with a laugh, kicks at their ankles when their faces are tilted towards the sky and they spend the rest of the walk avoiding each other’s shoes.

-

(chaewon doesn’t think she’s ever been happier.)

-

there’s a couple of other girls already there when they arrive and jiwoo introduces all of them, not stopping to catch her breath.

“thisisheejinhyunjinhaseulyeojin―she’stheyoungest―vivijinsouljungeunyerimandhyejoo!” she stops, arm propped up in a position that’d be uncomfortable to anyone but her. and then she gasps audibly, smacks her forehead, starts to exclaim the arrival of her two best friends to her members.

chaewon says hi to all of them.

-

(she meets haseul’s gaze. they smile at each other.)

-

they spend the afternoon doing whatever cloud-watchers are supposed to do and by the end of it, notebooks are filled with sketches and camera rolls are out of storage. chaewon took exactly one picture, only because one of the girls―hyejoo―asked her to. 

(“do you see that?” the taller had asked at a point, dark hair framing her youthful face. 

“hm?” chaewon looked away from jiwoo’s drawings, trying to follow the other’s finger. “it’s a butterfly.”

“really?” she’d hummed in response, folding her knees to her chest. “looks like a wolf to me.”)

no matter how many degrees she turned it, she could only see a butterfly. a moth, if she squinted hard enough.

-

(hyejoo takes her hand the next cloud-watch meeting―jiwoo was ecstatic when chaewon agrees to go again―and she lets her.) 

-

haseul greets her at the counter, slips an extra sucker into her bag when she’s checked out. she looks up, opening her mouth to say something, but haseul cuts her off. 

“―favor from hyejoo. i’d advise you to just take it.” the corners of her mouth flip up and she slides the purchase across. “have a nice day, come again!” 

she’s not just kind, chaewon notes as she walks out, unwrapping a lollipop. 

-

(she can’t sleep that night. but in a good way. stirs with a smile and a clack of candy against her teeth.)

-

she writes two words, twelve letters―in exception to one―sticks them in her mailbox, lifts the red flag with a creak and wipes the rust off her palm. when she lays in bed, she drifts off, dreams like never before.

-

(“thank you.” she reads her letter to herself, legs hanging off her bed, comfort in between her four walls. “you’re okay, now.” she's okay, now.)

**Author's Note:**

> ice cream cone scene inspired by never, always, sometimes
> 
> title from troye sivan's "wild"
> 
> typed this at school and thought that i actually didn't not like it


End file.
